Moriary's Game: American in white
by KateyJaney
Summary: Set in 2014, about a year after Sherlock revealed to John and every one else that he was in fact alive. John is married and still struggling to come to terms with what Sherlock did. The two are dragged into a case involving Moriarty, both alive and dead and a young damsel in distress who will change John and Sherlock's lives in the most unbelievable ways .
1. Chapter 1

**Moriary's Game: American in white**

**Chapter One**

The blistering summer of 2014 lasted through till the end of September, followed not by a mild and wet autumn but a vicious winter which left almost all of London in chaos, ice and snow. Within London reside the infamous Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson, though not living together at present, both still spend copious amount of time in 221B Baker Street. John and his wife currently lived in central London in a small flat equidistant from the pairs respected places of work, though 221B Baker Street was no longer John's workplace. After the events of the November previous John had chosen a quieter home life living in domestic bliss with his other half, while Sherlock remained at Baker Street. The two still spoke and occasionally worked together, but with a child on the way and a wife to support their projects together seemed to decrease in frequency each month.

In fact the only cases John and Sherlock ever seemed to work on where the cases involving Jim Moriarty, though dead, he was still leaving a web of cases to solve which just kept cropping up. So far the two had thwarted several blackmailing schemes funding Moriarty's underground criminal network, which seemed to continue as if he were still alive, though now every case seemed to have less and less flair they had once had with Moriarty at the top of the hierarchy. John and Sherlock had bit by bit disabled what seemed to only equate to an arm of the vast organisation.

Needless to say they had been busy enough for Sherlock to retain what one could only guess was his sanity but little enough for it to not interfere with John's home life. Among the blackmailing schemes brought to a stop, the two had also solved cases involving smuggling operations, human trafficking and several moles within the police and army had been caught and prosecuted. Sherlock was convinced that he could abolish all of Moriarty's monstrosities and continue to help the rest of the world, though John was more inclined to think that Sherlock would be happily occupied till the unfortunate day someone put a stop to his interfering. Mycroft Holmes was also inclined to think this way and constantly attempted to put seemingly more interesting cases in front of Sherlock, both directly and more discreetly with the help of his dear Watson, with whom he had become quite close with in the last 12 months, for they shared a mutual interest, the well fair of Sherlock, which seemed to become endangered more and more with every case. But Sherlock was not easily swayed and had become obsessed with breaking down everything that smelled remotely of Moriarty.

Both John and Mycroft had been planning an intervention till Sherlock turned up at Johns flat and insisted that he stop, days before said intervention was supposed to take place. John and Mycroft where currently back to square one and had no clue what step to take next.

"I don't know how he figured it out, I didn't say anything, nothing at all. Honestly sometimes it's like he's telepathic." John was not calm or collected, during the planning period, he and Mycroft had met in last minute locations, which differed by miles from the locations of Sherlock. They had used "burn phones" for every communication, used alias email addresses and had even taken to using coded messages within all electronic communications.

Both with mugs of tea at speedy's café, they had decided that trying to hide anything was futile. So had decided subtlety was pointless, John had even told Sherlock minutes before that he was going to have tea with Mycroft and suspected that he would make no effort to join them nor find out what the meeting was about, though with Sherlock you never could tell, he could be sitting mere feet away in some kind of elaborate disguise, quite possibly the rather large black woman sitting by the counter. Mycroft sipped his tea, which he had ordered in a tea cup and saucer.

"And don't look at me like that, I know what that look means, with your eyebrow all raised and lips pursed. I was careful, for God's sake! Everything that came out of my mouth was censored, so censored in fact that it felt like I was actually working for the British government and I'm sorry Mycroft, but that's your job. I have no idea how he found us out"

"You may have censored my dear John, but perhaps other things gave you away while trying not to reveal our plans" Mycroft put his mug down and twisted it so that the handle faced right.

"What other things" John had taken offence and was getting more and more riled up by the mess that had become of the intervention.

"Perhaps you chatted, you have never been one for idle chatter john. Those with something to hide tend to become more nervous and ramble on aimlessly about the price of cabbage while all the time avoiding anything even close to the subject which they are trying to hide from the person they are hiding it from. Did you at any point in the last few months ask about Sherlock's health? Appetite?" He stopped here as though he was about to touch a nerve and quickly took a sip of tea. "Emotional wellbeing?"

"Of course I have, I ask him every time I see him, alright Sherlock? Hungry, fancy a Chinese? Oh and how do you feel about me moving out to be with my wife and leaving you all alone because you left me thinking you were dead? This last question was less sarcastic and angrier than the previous two, he had even stood up, balled his hands into fists and supported himself against the table with them, making his tea spill slightly onto the white table cloth.

"Sit down John, you're making a scene, I was merely indicating that any change in your usual behaviour may have tipped Sherlock off to the fact that all was not well" Mycroft did not rise to Johns emotional outburst, merely softened his own voice to manipulate the situation, though his queried had had the intended effect.

"Well all is not well! All has not been well since he chucked himself off St Barts and walked back into our lives as though nothing had happed with barely so much as an apology."

"That's not what I was trying to convey John, but perhaps you should think about who we are talking about here, it's not you. And if you are two bitter to help your friend then I understand, but you are of no use to me in this state. If I'd have known that you still had all of this residual anger, I would have never pulled you away from your darling wife to help me."

John stared, dumbfound. "You think I don't want to help? Really? Mycroft, he's going to get himself killed if he carries on like this, you saw how powerful Moriarty was when he was alive, just think about all of the failsafe options he had put in place in the event of his death. He said it himself, the only reason he kept Sherlock alive was because he completed him, I bet he made tonnes of arrangements on how to keep Sherlock busy while he was dead. So he wouldn't see it coming when someone was sent to kill him. And I can't go through that again, I won't!"

Mycroft quietly finished his tea and stood up, placed his coat on his arm and picked up his umbrella. "It's nice to see that you are still as dedicated as I John, I'll be in touch. Oh and do tell Sherlock I sent him my regards." He minced out of the café and got into the back of one of his government issue cars and was driven off. John was left in his cloud of emotions, head in hands and shivering.

"ding, ding" He recovered himself and retrieved his phone from his pocket, he had a text: "Come to Barts if your done plotting, SH" and seconds later "Bring me a sandwich and a tampon" By this point in time John had realised that it was quicker and easier if he simply complied with Sherlock's many demands without question, so he purchased a sandwich to go from the café and headed to a nearby Lloyds pharmacy, being married and the devoted husband that he was he had no qualms about buying female feminine hygiene products, though he was curious as to what possible use Sherlock could have for them, if he had a nose bleed surely he could find the appropriate apparatus within a hospital at mid-day without anyone batting an eye lid.

Still he got into a cab and was glad that his position at his local doctors surgery paid so well, seeing as he took so many cab rides when on errands for Sherlock, the thought that his wife was surprisingly less expensive than his friend sent him on a rather disturbing train of thought till the cabbie announced that they had reached their destination, or was it the sat nav? Either way he paid his fair and headed down to the mortuary.

"He's not there" Molly chimed.

"Lab six?"

"No nine, one to seven are still being refurbished, he's not pleased. Oh would you wait a second, he asked for a cup of tea, would you take it to him, I'm a bit busy." Ordinarily John would have offered to make it himself to save Molly the undermining task, the poor girl didn't deserve to be treated like that by him, nor anyone else for that matter, but he was still quite dazed from the discussion with Mycroft that he simply nodded was waited.

"Is everything alright?" Molly handed him the chipped hospital mug and smiled sweetly, she looked as though she'd been there all night and morning.

"Fine, absolutely fine, you"

"Oh you know, the usual. Terrible weather"

"Yes, yes quite terrible, awful in fact" he paused "Our heating's on the blink as well. Must remember to call an engineer, I think it's the boiler. Hot waters not as hot as it should be either"

"That won't be very good for the baby will it? Whens the due date?"

"Oh, um, June I think, mid-June, but you know what babies are like, come when their ready. Probably be just as awkward as its mother." Molly wasn't quite sure how to respond to this sudden overshare so attempted to change the subject.

"You're both settled into the flat? Well moved in I mean"

"Oh yes, everything's there, all except the heat" he gave a half laugh then straightened up "Anyway, I should be going, don't want his tea to get cold, give him something to whine about."

"Hum, bye bye" Molly nodded smiled and scurried off, reminding John of a rodent, she was certainly quiet enough and skittish, she had been another fallout last November, John couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to her 100% civilly then had a pang of guilt, after all it wasn't her fault, Sherlock had a way with people when he needed to. John stepped off the elevator and looked for the LAB009 sign, it had be a while since he had been on this floor and wasn't certain where everything was, but of course he heard Sherlock before he entered the room.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid" Sherlock was fiddling about with what looked like paper towels and toilet paper tubes.

"Ur Sherlock, what are you doing?"

"Trying to concentrate in this abominable laboratory, honestly how long does take to fix up a few rooms, it's ridiculous! And where have you been? I've been waiting for you for…" he checked the clock on the wall "45 minutes, don't you understand how important my time is? Don't just stand there give me the bag" John sighed and handed his former roommate the speedy's carrier bag. "This is Egg and cress, I don't like egg and cress, get me another one" He held out the sandwich and waited for John to take it, he did.

"You do like egg and cress Sherlock, it's all you ate when my in-laws came to the flat before I moved out, you remember hogging the plate while mentally throwing daggers at my wife?"

"No I don't, the memory has put me off them, and I honestly don't know why you bothered, she can't cook if her sandwiches are anything to go by"

"Sherlock you can't say… oh never mind I'll go to the canteen, I don't suppose you will be paying for the second sandwich?"

"Wallet's in my jacket pocket"

"You're wearing your… you know what, it doesn't matter. Drink your tea!" Sherlock watched his friend depart and reached for the remaining contents of the bag, quickly unwrapped the contents of 4 tubes and placed the tubes into identical looking beakers filled with colourless liquid with the strings dangling over the side.

"Ham and cheese alright? It's all they had without mayonnaise and in date, what on earth are you doing?"

"I'm seeing how long it would take a woman to become intoxicated during a car journey" Sherlock unwrapped the sandwich, took a bite and placed the 4 tubes on a tray

"Well normally people tend to drink it but I'm clearly missing something"

"An old friend of mine is being charged with drunk driving and I'm trying to prove that there is no way using her method that she could be over the limit in the time that it took her to drive from her home to her ex-husbands home"

"I suppose her method explains the ex-husband"

"He cheated on her so I don't see how"

"Right, hang on how do you expect to conduct the experiment, coz there's no way anyone would volunteer to insert a vodka filled tampon in their… Wait this isn't a Moriarty case?"

"We have a morgue john, and molly has supplied me with 4 beautifully fresh female corpses. And no it isn't, there are other cases you know. Moriarty's team of criminals aren't exactly going anywhere and as I said she's an old friend."

"Right well that's my cue to not follow you into the morgue, and since when did you have a friend that was a woman?"

"Fine, and since school"

"You went to an all-boys boarding school"

"I see you and Mycroft have been exchanging stories, just as I suspected really, though I would ask you not to mention my odd experience with illegal substances, but I'm sure you have already told him or you value our friendship enough to allow me some kind of secrecy with regard to my brother. Or did he offer to pay you again? In which case I expect my cut."

"Wha… Sherlock we were concerned, what else could I have done? And no I haven't told him… And no he hasn't offered to pay, though I rather wish he would if you insist on having me traipse all over London to fetch and carry everything you deem too unimportant for you to fetch yourself."

"Okay"

"Okay! Okay what?"

"If you are struggling financially John, you could always return to Baker street, if memory serves me well, which it does"

John quickly cut him off "do you really expect me to move back in? You would end up killing each other, that or I would kill myself"

"John I wasn't suggesting you move back in, I was simply suggesting that we resume working together, I have a near constant influx of cases these days and Scotland Yard pay their consultants very well if you remember. And if I was suggesting you move back in I would not extend that suggestion to her"

"Her! Sherlock, she's my wife! I couldn't just move back in with my old flatmate, shed divorce me!"

"It's interesting that that's your only excuse. If you're not coming to the morgue I suggest that you go home I could be a while, oh and if you run into Molly, tell her to come to me, I need help keeping the girls legs open, there aren't any stirrups in the morgue" John closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths and walked out of the room, he didn't want an explanation. Thankfully he did not run into Molly on his way out, even if he had he didn't think he could convey the message without wanting to jump out of the window, the thought stirred up emotions he did not want stirring up. He hadn't quite realised how cold it was till he had begun his hunt for a taxi, as he marched along the pavement, he glazed over into a trance, all he was aware of for the next hour and forty minutes was his frozen breath and the drumming of blood pulsating in his ears.

Once he realised he was home the dread of his wife set in. His mobile said 6.48pm, it was dark and he was 48 minutes late for dinner, he had forgotten the milk and TV guide and had 2 messages and a missed call from his no doubt fuming wife. Still he opened the door to the lobby and inserted his key into his front door, took in a sharp breath and walked through the door. The heat was the first thing that hit him, then the look on his wife's face hit him.

"Where the hell have you been? I've called I've texted. You were with him, weren't you? God you could at least have the decency to text me to tell me you're going to be late… John your crying, Oh my God what's happened" In an instant his angry wife had changed from the slighted wife to the doting one, she wrapped her thin arms around him and cradled his head in her chest.

"I hadn't realised I had been" John unconsciously wiped his tear sodden face with the palm of his hand and took off his coat and jacket, quickly followed by his gloves and jumper. "Who fixed the heating?" She stood, hair curly and slightly emotionally whiplashed and decided she was too tired for an argument so would pretend he was on time and she wasn't furious.

"Daddy came round, you were right, it was just one of the valves on the boiler that needed tightening, once the pressure reset itself the radiators started working"

"I can see that, it's like a sauna in here" John pulled at his collar to make his point as he sat down at the table.

"Maybe if you hadn't been gallivanting out there all day with that psychopath, you wouldn't be so cold that it felt so hot in here, it's only set to 25 degrees."

"Only" dinner was served up and the couple slipped into their routine, He washed up, she curled up on the sofa, he sat beside her with his laptop and eventually the two went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

Sherlock had been hard at work all evening and night with the four corpses, Molly had made herself useful hours after John had left by making strong tea and listening to Sherlock's deductions. Eventually however she had left him, so quietly so that Sherlock continued to speak out loud as though she where still there.

"I don't usually like cases like this, Madeline will be pleased, not so sure about Lestrade, will his still be in do you think?" He waited for her mouse like reply, stuttering and quiet "Molly?" He looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen. It was only 11 and Lestrade was an unmarried man so it was likely considering that he was not currently engaged in a sexual relationship that he was still at the station. Sherlock walked back to LAB009 and put on his coat, gloves and scarf.

The cab ride was quick, giving that there was no congestion. The roads in London are usually occupied at least partially at all hours, though the ice and snow had put most people off driving at this time of night lately, so was really only cabs that roamed. Sherlock waltzed through the station as usual, past the sign in desk for guests and such, past security with a nod and straight to Lestrade's office. "Not right now Sherlock I'm in the middle of something"

"I'm sure that this month's edition of autotrader is absolutely thrilling Lestrade, but I have proof that Madeline Suffolk is innocent and I think it's your duty to take a look at it"

"Can't you just leave it on the desk like everyone else and be on your way"

"Oh im sorry detective inspector, I was under the impression that the occupants of London where supposed to be able to sleep soundly at night knowing that Britain's finest where ready and willing to protect and serve at all hours including their tea breaks, but I can see that replacing that pile of scrap metal you call a car is much more important that preventing an injustice against an innocent woman"

"Preventing an injustice against an innocent woman? Sherlock she was driving with a womb full of illegal Russian vodka, im surprised she can see let alone drive, that stuffs strong enough to send you blind when you drink it, let alone do what she did. She'll be lucky if we don't have her for possession of an illegal substance, never mind getting her off a DUI. Why does it matter to you anyway, I thought you'd locked yourself away in your flat to hunt down all of Moriarty's associates, what are you doing out of the bat cave?"

"I thought I'd stretch my legs"

"Well you can stretch them that way, towards the door and out of it, I'm just waiting for an email then I'm going home"

"you know I don't know why I bother doing this station any favours, all I get is ungratefulness and abuse, you are lucky I help you at all, now if you don't mind, the sun will be up in a few hours and as you clearly know I'm nocturnal so will have to be hanging from Mrs Hudson's ceiling before the sun comes up."

"Out!" Sherlock walked away smiling, since last year his relationship had not changed all that much with Lestrade, he had been one of the only people to understand why Sherlock did what he had done. The flat was quite a walk from the station, but Sherlock was not tired and the icy air helped to clear his mind, which was bussing with all of the information Sherlock had learned today about Steven Perry, a known associate of Moriarty's who seemed to be cropping up all over the place these days: crime scenes though so far every time his presence could only be proven to be circumstantial, he had been member or investor of a hand full of clubs which had over the years been found to be fronts for smuggling operations, though again his involvement could only be said to be circumstantial. And finally someone had been spotted, matching his description at a robbery at St Oswalds, a hospital in Worcester two months ago, the only things reported stolen where various apparatus and machines from some of the more sophisticated labs there, though nothing had popped up on the black market, which Sherlock had been monitoring closely. Like John, Sherlock had underestimated the temperature outside and longed for a cab, though there was not one in sight, he had two options: head for the nearest main road and look for a cab, or take the fastest route to the flat, which required walking through dark ally's which housed all kinds of things that Sherlock was not in the mood to battle with tonight. Regardless Sherlock opted for the latter, hoping that if he did bump into anything unpleasant, it would at least get his blood pumping enough for him to be able to feel his toes again.

Before he could see it coming in the limited light the 3rd ally could provide, something or rather someone ran straight into Sherlock, knocking him clean off his feel, the figure turned slightly while still running and cried a "sorry" before resuming its initial velocity in the direction Sherlock had just come from. Sherlock scrambled to his feet and started after the figure who he noticed from the back was a woman, in a thin, dirty, white dress, barefoot with long dark hair and from the distance appeared to be wearing two silver watches, one on each wrist. She was fast but eventually Sherlock grabbed hold of her.

"No!" The girl shrieked

"I work with the police, I don't want to hurt you" Sherlock tried to reassure her, but she was wild with what he could only deduce as terror, she struggled against the grip he now had over both of her upper arms and tried furiously to fight him off. "I want to help you" Her resistance was slightly irritating seeing as she had knocked him to the ground and he was attempting to help her, though he could see now that she had been wearing hand cuffs and they had dug into her wrists and left relatively deep wounds, which were swollen, red and possibly infected. The police would never treat even the vilest of suspect in that way, so she was not running from them.

"Then let me go" She shouted angrily and kicked him, though it was her that fell to the ground, still under his grasp and began sobbing and shacking uncontrollably. Sherlock released her and crouched beside her, he removed his long coat and wrapped it around her as best he could while she sat awkwardly. Without thinking, Sherlock picked up the trembling mass and adjusted the coat, so it covered her as much as possible. She was crying silently when he carried her up the stairs to his flat. He placed her on the sofa and covered her with a blanket while he put the kettle on and called John.

"What do you mean you've taken her to the flat? Why didn't you take her to the hospital?"

"She was terrified John and the flat was closer, but she does need medical attention, will you come?"

"Oh for God's sake Sherlock, do I have much choice? Be very glad I've got a key to the surgery, let me pick up a few things and I'll be right there, you better hope she's not allergic to penicillin"

"Thank you John" He had already hung up. Sherlock took a tray of tea to the girl who was still shacking but had stopped crying. "How do you take it?" She stared at him "It will make you feel better, its hot?" She took a mug and poured tea into it, without spilling a drop which was shocking considering the jerks of her bony white hands, in the mug she put milk and a cube of sugar and held it between her palms as though it was something precious. "A friend of mine is a doctor, hes on his way, will you let him look at you?" She nodded and blew steam from the dark brown liquid in her precious mug. "Would you like another blanket? Sandwich? Toast, I can make toast?" She simply shook her head resulting in a tear falling from her cheek. "I promise you I won't hurt you, do you believe me?" She stared into his blue eyes, he stared back in to hers, a green/grey colour, after a few moments she nodded slightly and almost whimpered

"I believe you"

"Good, can you tell me what happened to you? Where were you running from?" She paused.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"Yes, through the kitchen and down the hall, it's the door on your left or just through that door and it's the next door on the right" He pointed to his bedroom door "My bathroom, which ever you feel more comfortable. I'll make you something to eat." The girl opted for Sherlock's bathroom, presuming it was closer and her stomach was churning. She padded to the bathroom and fell to the floor and put her head to the bowl, she was starving but somehow she managed to bring up bile, which burned her throat. Once her queasiness had faded she climbed to her feet and stared into the mirror clinging on to the sink for support, who on earth was this man and why was he helping her, she was dirty, she had assaulted him and been rude. She could not tell if she could trust him, but her reflection was exhausted, it had bags under its eyes, dirt under its nails and its hair was a tangled mess, the reflection needed food, sleep and someone to tell her it was going to be okay. She decided to take advantage of the stranger's kindness, but only because she did not have the strength to fight back or run, if he killed her, then so be it.

When she struggled to the living room she could see in the kitchen that the tall, dark haired stranger had been busy, there was an array of hot food on the table, she retrieved the coat wrapped it around herself and rolled up the sleeves and sat down. Sherlock fetched her cooler, drinkable tea and set it on the table beside her and indicating at the food said "Help yourself" and sat down opposite her. He took half an omelette off a plate and she followed suit, to that she added sausages, toast, beans and bacon rashers. She had been almost starving for what she estimated to be 6 weeks but was modest in her portion. The two ate in silence for a while till John's arrival disturbed their quite.

"Sherlock" They nodded at each other, the young girl put down her knife and fork and turned to him.

"This is my friend, the doctor" She nodded

"My name is Doctor John Watson, you can call me whatever you like. What's your name" It was now that Sherlock was reminded of how good a doctor John was, he was gentle, non-threatening and genuinely cared.

"Sienna" John nodded

"Sienna, can I see your hands?" she held out her hands and so did John "May i?" She nodded. John took her right hand and flipped it over gently, softly testing the tenderness of the broken skin with his gloved fingers, he retracted slightly when Sienna took in breath or winced. "These may be infected, I have some penicillin, do you know if you are allergic?"

"No, Im not" she mumbled, looking down.

"Okay, give me just a moment" John fiddled with the contents of his bag, "We should clean the wounds, but you might want to have a bath or shower?" Both John and Sherlock waited for her answer.

"Bath, please?" John looked at Sherlock and he rose from his seated position and left the room. John administered the antibiotics and discussed the possible side effects with her. Sherlock returned and took his place opposite Sienna.

"Do you have any other injuries? Cuts? Bites?" Sienna shook her head "Is there any pain? When you walk or move in a particular way?" She shook her head again "did you hit your head at any point? Have a headache? Or pain behind your eyes?" She continued to shake. "Did anyone touch you… sexually?"

"No" She shook her head still, though with a little more energy.

"You are sure? Because things would need to be done if you had been, the police would have to become involved Sienna." She began to well up at the thought of being poked and prodded by a complete stranger, though that is what she was experiencing now, but she felt strangely safe. "It's important because you could give evidence that could prevent it happening to someone else"

"I wasn't raped, im sure"

"The you can remember what happened, tell us"

"Sherlock, really? You can't give her 10 minutes?" Both looked at her, wanting to know the answer, so they could begin to help her.

"I was taken hostage by a man, he wanted me to run DNA comparisons, after that he took me to a warehouse and left me."

"Where?"

"Sherlock, give her a minute!"

"Worcester"

"What was his name?"

"I don't know"

"If you saw a picture of him, could you identify him?"

"Sherlock!" John was almost shouting, not something he should really be doing in front of a clearly traumatised girl, who looked at Sherlock questioningly, he retrieved a photograph of Steven Perry from a copy of the case file, he had given to Lestrade, and handed it to her and she looked, concentrated for a while and gave it back to him shaking her head.

"Do you recognise him at all?" Again she shook her head. Sherlock drew in a long breath and lent back in his chair with his eyes closed and exhaled, He stared at the photograph and then at the girl who had tears in her eyes. "I will do everything in my power to find the man that did this to you but I will probably upset you along the way, can you handle that?" She nodded and he took her hand and led her to the bathroom, gave her a blue bath robe, showed her the towels and told her to help herself to the toiletries, then left the room. Sienna lowered herself into the hot water and ley there, eyes closed, mind racing, who on earth where Dr Watson and Sherlock? And when would she finally be able to sleep.

"This reeks of Moriarty, John, I'm telling you, Perry had something to do with this and Perry is deeply involved with Moriarty."

"How do you know Steven Perry has something to do with this, Sherlock you have been stalking him for months, when was the last time you got a good night's sleep? I think your mind is making connections where there aren't any"

"Arrrggg John don't you see? She's from Worcester! Or at least that's where she was working. Clearly she can't be from Worcester, she has an American accent. Regardless she was working at St Oswalds. In Worcester! Honestly John has married life made you even more stupid? Oh for God's sake don't you even watch the news?" John looked vacantly as he awaited the complicated story which Sherlock saw so clearly with only a few pieces. "She was forced to run DNA comparisons, which means that she is a scientist of some kind, perhaps a laboratory technician, something like that. She worked in Worcester. St Oswalds is a hospital in Worcester, which Perry was seen leaving during a robbery, where scientific analysis machines were stolen. Centrifuges, PCR machines, syringes, beakers, pipettes. Think John!"

"Okay, so you think that Sienna worked at the same hospital that Perry stole from, and that during the robbery, Perry grabbed Sienna and forced her to do the dirty work or someone else did, possibly the man he was working for."

"Ahhh Eureka he's got it"

"Do you even know w"

"Newton"

"You know that but you didn't know when world war 2 finished"

"Not important, don't start. The important thing is that Perry and the girl are connected, if I get Perry, I can find out what happened to her and she will be able to give me more details once you give her something to take the edge off, bring her out of shock. Or she might lead me to the man who she ran the tests for who consequently should lead to arrests and or information about Perry."

"So either way you win, Sherlock, I can't just drug her, she could be seriously damaged, they could have done anything to her, and as we speak she's destroying the evidence… SHIT!"

"Oh relax, if they had raped her she would have never come back to the flat with me, she assured us that she wasn't. She doesn't seem to be too badly beaten, the bruises I've seen are at least 3 weeks old and she seems to be walking around without too much pain. A good night's sleep and a full stomach and she will be fine."

"You hope, and what if she just wanted to avoid being examined by a male doctor?"

"She wasn't raped John, im almost certain" they both stood for a short while, minds racing with the new information.

"Hang on, its been two months."

"Yes"

"So she has been missing for two months, and nobody has said anything. Surly if she had been reported missing at the time of the robbery, it would have been in the news"

"Clearly doesn't have many friends or family, perhaps she is new to the country. Though now that you mention it, it is strange"

"She has been missing for two months, beaten, starved and God only knows what else" They stood in silence.

"Look I've got to go home, do you think you will be alright?"

"Of course, she can sleep in my bed and ill sleep in you old bedroom, if I need to"

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Not important" John shook his head, placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, squeezed it and left.

Sienna reluctantly dragged herself out of the bath and put on the robe, in Sherlock's bedroom the bed had been turned up and small cotton pyjamas had been left on one of the pillows, Sienna took the hint, dressed and crawled into the soft bed. She was asleep in seconds.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Sienna woke at 9:27, a grey light streaming through the open curtains. She rolled onto her back and blinked for a moment, before getting up and making the bed. She stretched and winced, feeling the full effect of the turmoil of the last few weeks on her slightly wasted muscles, sore and aching. She padded barefoot to the living room, then the kitchen and second bathroom and finally what she could only describe as a storage room. The flat was empty, she was alone, in a complete stranger's home. In the kitchen was a note "Help yourself to food and drink, the clothes should fit" Sienna looked around confused. There was a selection of bags on the kitchen table. A brown paper schuh bag with white size 5 converse, her size. A brightly coloured Selfridges bag with a navy military jacket, scarf and leather gloves. A Select bag with a two checked shirts, one burgundy, the other dark blue, a denim shirt and a khaki shirt. There were also white, grey and black tank tops. Among the other relatively cheap brands where jeans, socks, pants and bras, all in her size, which she felt slightly unnerving.

She made herself tea and toast and sat at the table with the newspaper, placed on the corner with a pint of milk on top. It seemed Sherlock had been shopping. After her bland breakfast, she carried her bags to Sherlock's bedroom and quickly showered and changed. The flat was still empty when she returned to the living room. In the corner of her eye, she noticed a land line phone, she quickly picked it up, then stared at it then realised she had no one in the world to call, she was beginning to well up when Sherlock stepped onto the landing silently and into the room.

"I don't mind, call whomever you like" He watched as she looked at the phone, then held out his hand "Or perhaps you don't have anyone, that's why no one reported you missing" She looked at him, a tears fell down her cheeks and she breathed out, as though she had been holding her breath since he arrived. Sherlock returned the phone to its charging pod and sat in his usual chair. "I've been busy all day as you can imagine, trying perilously to find out who you are and how you got here, tell me if I'm wrong. Your name is Sienna Harrison, 22 years old, graduated with an MSC in Biochemistry, specialising in Forensic toxicology from Aston University. You moved to Worcester after the death of your grandmother with whom you had been living since the death of your mother when you were 13. Prior to then you had lived with her in Maine. Estranged father?"

"Yeah"

"In Worcester you worked in the medical labs of St Oswalds, a group of men came to the facility while you were there, stole tens of thousands of pounds of equipment and took you with them. Correct?"

"Pretty much" By this point Sienna had herself sat in John's old chair, so that she was facing Sherlock. "They were from London, I think, their accents I mean, they sounded like stereotypical cockneys, but the guy who I spoke to, the guy who needed the tests, he was Irish… Northern Irish I think." Sherlock looked up from his knotted hands and raised his eyebrow, puzzled. "It's really only him that I can remember. I could describe him, pick him out of a line up or something. The others, all called him Jimmy. I can't really tell you much more than that about him, besides what he looks like."

"What was he like, short, dark hair, Blue eyes, camp, slightly psychotic?" Sherlock's voice was strained, he was not pleased with the deductions his mind had made from Sienna's monologue.

"Um not, none of that really, psychotic maybe. He had reddish hair and a beard, not that long though, dark eyes, a little brooding I guess. And he had a pretty bad temper too" Sherlock rubbed his forehead and returned his composure, the panic was over, she had not met Moriarty, Moriarty was dead. After a second or two, Sherlock rose to his feet.

"Coat, we are leaving"

"Where?"

"Coat! Scotland Yard, you can work with a sketch artist, then we can find your Irish man" Sienna struggled to keep up with Sherlock as they hunted down a cab, her limbs where still suffering from the beatings and loss of muscle. Eventually Sherlock took her hand in his gloved hand and pulled her slightly behind him. Eventually they reached a main road dotted with parked cabs, Sherlock tapped on the window of one, opened the door and ushered his companion in, supporting her while she clambered in. He realised she was a little stiff, and that perhaps he should be a little more delicate with her. He slid into the seat beside her and instructed the driver to take them to "New Scotland Yard, Broadway" The cabby hummed a Hindi tune, Sienna could smell his lunch, feel the heat, and quickly put her seatbelt on as the car swayed violently over the ice. She looked at Sherlock who was staring out of the window. "What is it?"

"Nothing, just why didn't you take me to the hospital or police station?"

"Believe me when I say, I will be of more use to you than them, I'll find the Irish man. And the flats much nicer that anywhere they would put you"

"And the company"

"The company is irrelevant, though you might want to pop down to Mrs Hudson at some point, she will take it personally if you don't, she's sensitive at times." Sherlock glanced at her then back out of the window.

"Who I"

"The landlady, though she's more of a house keeper, but don't let her know you think that" Sherlock interrupted and thought how he hated how predictable stupid peoples thought processes and speech patterns where. Sienna nodded and rested her head against the head rest and closed her eyes, images flashed through her mind, images that Sherlock might find important, but she didn't care to interrupt him, she got the impression she had already tried his patients, thought she couldn't fathom what she had done which could irritate him. She stored the images away and returned to steady breathing almost meditating in the back of the cab with the windows fogging up.

The cab skidded to a halt, Sherlock paid the driver and got out, Sienna followed. They stood outside a tall building with an entire wall of windows from top to bottom.

"Shall we" Sherlock indicated towards the entrance, Sienna nodded and followed him, purposely stepping on the grit, which crunched under her weight. Sherlock led her to a small interview room and instructed her to sit down, he left and quickly returned with Lestrade.

"I'm just saying, you could have called, I don't even know is Eves free" Lestrade nodded at Sienna and sat opposite her, stretched out his arms and rested them on the table, hands linked at the fingers.

"This is Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, I'll find Eve, did she lose any of that baby weight yet?"

"She wasn't pregnant Sherlock, she got divorced"

"That's a reasonable explanation, bit harsh though even for my taste"

"She put on the weight after the divorce"

"Well she won't find another husband by doing that"

"Sherlock!"

"I'll find her, and keep my mouth shut, shall I?" Lestrade scrunched up his face and nodded. Sherlock left and Lestrade was left with Sienna whom he had been given a brief bio of.

"Is there anything that you need? Cup of tea?" without letting her answer he left

"Brits" she sighed, why is it they think tea will solve everything, her grandma had been the same. She shook her head and waited for one of the men to return. Lestrade was the first to arrive, with two NSY mugs of builder's tea. They sat in silence till Sherlock returned with a curvaceous mixed race woman. She sat down and looked at Sherlock and Lestrade, raised an eyebrow and patronised:

"You can go now" They looked at each other, she placed her hand over the top of Lestrade's mug "Leave it" Lestrade tutted and left and Sherlock placed his finger tips on Sienna's shoulder.

"I'll be back" Then left silently, shutting the heavy door behind him.

"Right now that those two plonkers have gone, we can get started" She had a thick Black Country accent that Sienna found so comforting. "Start from the basics and ill work from anything you say, take your time, were in no rush, if you need to take a break just let me know." The two started their work, when they were done, Eve presented the sketch to Sienna, who furrowed her brows. "Now we concentrate on the little details, colouring, fine lines, scars, anything else you can remember, the sketch so far should joy your memory a bit" Sienna looked carefully.

"His hair was more red, but dark, like it hadn't been washed." Eve began her corrections "It was longer, kinda flicked out of the hat, sort of curly. His face was more sullen, like he had lost a little weight, gaunt I guess. He had jowls, they made him look a little older than the sketch, by maybe 4 or 5 years." His beard was a little brighter than his hair, but shorter like he just trimmed it with, grade 2 or 3." Eve carried on correcting, erasing and filling in. Sienna sipped at her second cup of tea. "His eyes where paler, they were slightly down turned, like he was gonna cry."

Sherlock knocked and walked in, sat beside Eve and peered at the finished sketch, Lestrade followed and did the same sitting next to Sienna, handing her a cup of tea and staring at the picture. Finally he turned to Sherlock "Any idea who he is?"

"Not a clue" Sherlock shook his head.

"Right then, I suppose we had better get it to facial recognition then, should take a few hours" Sherlock stood up.

"Right then we will be back, Sienna, let's go" Sienna set down the full cup, next to Lestrade,

"Thanks for the tea" She smiled at him and Eve who winked back at her. When she had caught up with Sherlock she was quite breathless, "What now?" She enquired

"Whoop, whoop" Sherlock received a text from John

"Hang on" It read "Need to bandage Sienna's wrists, can you bring her to Barts, Molly's office, John"

"We are going to the hospital, John wants you"

"Um ok" Sherlock hailed a cab and they both got in, they rode in silence for a few minutes, till Sherlock broke it.

"Facial recognition should only take a few hours, John can sort you out and we can go back to the flat. Don't need to go back till the morning really."

"I don't mind"

"Or we could go straight from the hospital"

"Sure" Sherlock nodded and they returned to the silence.

John was in LAB011, waiting for Sienna with cotton swaps, antiseptic and bandages.

"It's just to stop you from catching it really, we don't want the scar to be raised." Sienna nodded as john gently slathered her wrists in antiseptic gel and gauze. "I've got Samson to get us a cat scan and a few x-rays, I just want to make sure. I managed to get admin at your Doctors to fax over your records. Sherlock gave me all the details I needed, I hope you don't mind."

"No not at all, it's not every day that I get two men hacking into various official databases to gather information about me. I feel like a fugitive." They looked at her, John slightly ashamed, head hung and Sherlock blankly, as he tried to process the sarcasm. "Guys I'm kidding, lighten up, I'm thankful that you're on the job, which way to the CAT suite?" she smiled sweetly at both and waited to be lead out. John rose to the occasion and led the way to the suite, followed by Sienna and Sherlock.

Sienna was placed in a hospital gown and slowly inserted in the CAT scanning machine.

"Everything ok in there" John said through the microphone

"Yeah, all good, thanks"

"Well the lights will start to come on and you will hear some loud banging noises, it's quite normal, just relax and try not to move, okay?"

"Okay" Sienna closed her eyes and listened for the banging, the lights that came on where visible, even though her closed lids. Another flood of memories cam, she flinched.

"Sienna? Are you alright? Try to stay still. Please" she did as she was told, and eventually the bright lights went out and the bed began to slide out of the scanner. She sat, legs dangling off the bed, waiting for John and Sherlock.

"No recent head trauma, that I can see, let's get you to an x ray suite." John smiled as her, reassuringly and Sherlock handed her, her jacket and shoes. The three marched to the next suite and a full body x ray was taken, Sienna dressed and they waited for the results, in an empty Lab.

"I can't be bothered with waiting, come find me when you're done" Sherlock groaned and walked off.

"Yeah, he does that" John huffed, Sienna opened her mouth to speak, but decided against it and closed it again and shook her head. "What is it?"

"What's up with you guys?"

"What?"

"I can see, a lot of people in Sherlock's life tolerate him. I don't really know why. But you kind of seem more tired of him than anyone else. Maybe I'm wrong but it seems to me that you guys where really close, but now you're not. Can I ask why?"

"We were roommates, Good friends too. But he did something unforgivable, and even though I know why he did it, to keep us safe, I can't bring myself to forgive him, because of what it did to me."

"Sounds complicated"

"No, it's quite simple really, there are some things that you just don't do to your friends, and even know I don't think he understands that."

"I know it's not my place to say, giving that I don't really know either of you, but he seems to care."

"Oh no doubt, and so do I, but some things need time, and that's what this is, I'm doing my thing, he's doing his. I just need space. Time and space"

"You kind of sound"

"John quickly cut her off "I'm not gay, we weren't a couple. I'm married. To a woman. We're pregnant. It's all good."

"Congratulations" The atmosphere became tense, till a lab technician came out with the printed X rays. John gave them all a once over and concluded that Sienna was fine and had not suffered any lasting damage from the kidnapping, although he doubted she was psychologically unscathed. They eventually found Sherlock, examining a human skull. Once outside, Sherlock and Sienna caught one cab home and John another back to his wife.

Back at the flat, Mrs Hudson was bustling about with shopping bags in the kitchen.

"Sherlock, you really do need to start going shopping, if it weren't for me you would happily starve."

"Oh Mrs Hudson, why would I go shopping for myself when I know that you will get mine when you get your own and simply add it on to the rent."

"I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper" Sherlock grinned.

"Mrs Hudson, this is Sienna, she will be staying with us for a while"

"Oh. My. G- Sherlock you don't mean to say that you've"

"She will be needing the upstairs bedroom Mrs Hudson, no need to get all excited."

"Oh I see, I'll go fetch the linens and put the kettle on and you can tell me all about it" Then set off down the stairs "I'm sure it'll be a one for the books"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Mrs Hudson had returned with the linens and had poured tea then the three discussed how Sienna had come to be there.

"Oh you poor thing, no family, no job, no home, what will you do?" This was the first time Sienna had had 5 minutes to think about it. Her landlord will have sold all of her belongings and rented the flat out to someone new. No one at the hospital would want to give her a reference, seeing as she had seemingly walked out without handing in her notice, though if she where to explain… The whole matter was heart wrenching, She had been on her own before, but she had never felt quite so hopeless, even when she was strapped to a chair and left for dead.

"Oh I'm sorry, my dear, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Its fine, I'm screwed, but ill figure something out" She told herself more so than Mrs Hudson.

"You can stay here" Both women looked at Sherlock puzzled "Until the end of the investigation. It's more convenient" Then Sherlock left the kitchen for the living room, violin in hand he began to play and his mind cleared. To Sherlock, keeping her close by was more convenient, it meant that he knew where she was at all times and could throw all of his deductions at her, could sort through his strings of theories with her. With John gone all he had was his skull, and it lacked the human responses which helped him much more than simply verbalising his thoughts, also walking around talking to a skull tended to attract unwanted attention.

Mrs Hudson went to set up the upstairs bedroom for Sienna, who stayed sitting at the kitchen table, deep in melancholy thought, she had savings, not an enormous amount but she definitely needed it, she would need to go to the bank, contact her landlord, see if he had kept any of her things, her passport being the most important. Perhaps someone at the station would be able to help her.

"Ding, ding"

"John, your phone" John reached for the phone off of his wife, It was a message from Anthea "Outside"

"Just popping out, Samson got out of work early, wants to get a drink, Hes got gossip apparently, I'll tell you about it when I get back?" He increased the octaves slightly, indicating that he was indeed asking for permission to go out.

"Hum, see you" She did not look up from her book. The cold air almost winded John as he stepped out into the night, he would have to remind Mycroft that he was married and that he feared his wife slightly more than he did him. He slumped next to Anthea, Emailing today not texting.

"Hi" John breathed still slightly stunned by the drop in temperature.

"Hello John" She did not look up from her phone, though she did smile.

"Any idea where you're taking me?"

"No"

"Right" They sat in silence for 20 minutes, till Anthea stepped out of the car, and John reluctantly followed. They were in a high rise car park and walking towards a black Vauxhall insignia with tinted windows. Anthea gestured for him to get in and he did.

"We are meeting in cars now? At least put the heater on its freezing"

"How are you John?"

"Just get to the point will you, I'm on probation as it is and I need to be home in a couple of hours so just get on with it."

"Oh I'm wonderful, John, thank you for asking" John stared blankly, "No you are right, tell me about the girl"

"She's nice, handling it all very well actually, and she's been very useful so far, Sherlock has been telling me, she was able to provide a distinct looking sketch, not sure if there have been any hits so far though. I don't think she remembers much about the attack, that or she doesn't want to talk about it"

"Hum, really Sherlock should have pieced it together by now, is she being vague?"

"No, just hasn't said much about what happened, no details at least. You don't think she's lying? You didn't see her that night Mycroft, she was in pieces"

"Still"

"Fantastic, you don't trust her and you haven't met her"

"She's clean, perhaps too clean, not so much as a parking ticket, no fines, no cautions. She just exists, barely on the map. It's troubling."

"Well I trust her"

"You would"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh nothing John, I'm just worried, we have only had Sherlock back for 5 minutes and there is something about this case... Something I can't quite put my finger on. Tell me, how is her temperament? I think I should meet her."

"Nope, I don't think that would be a very good idea"

"Why not? I could help, she will need assistance setting up again, getting a job, a home. No I think it would be best. Where is she staying now?"

"With Sherlock as far as I know and fine if you want to see her but be nice, try and remember she has been through a trauma and act accordingly."

"I wouldn't have it any other way" John looked at him, sceptically and shifted his weight, hand on the door handle. He thought for a moment then resumed his seated position and looked up as if to ask God for strength. "She's a nice girl, I feel bad for her. Estranged father and dead mom and grandmother. She's all on her own Mycroft. I just wish there was something I could do"

"Go home John, your wife is waiting, Sherlock will fix everything, you know that"

"No, no he won't, he will just get his answers and then leave her"

"Correct me if I'm wrong John, but remind me, are we talking about the girl? Or You?" John scorned, but thought for a second, who was he talking about? Was he so hurt that he refused to believe that Sherlock could help anybody but himself?

"John, forgive him, you're not yourself"

"And who am I Mycroft? An i a shoulder, a doctor or a pathetic little man that can't let go of the past? If that was the case, I'd have shot the bugger who put me in Sherlock's way. And yours" John gave Mycroft one last look, but this time of shame, He was the little man, too bitter to help a young woman who so sorely needed his help. He stepped out of the car and walked straight past Anthea and into the night to simmer in his own juices.

The next morning was to be a busy one, Sherlock was dashing around the city making connections and a general nuisance. Sienna had the morning to herself and decided it was time to call her land lord, armed with tea and the landline she dialled and hoped that the number had not been changed.

"Ello?"

"Terence?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"Its Sienna"

"Ay?"

"It's a long story, to cut it short, I was kidnapped… That's about it actually"

"You'm alive? How the fuck did that happen? Shit man, I fort you was dead, even called the police, said sumthin about you not havin a next of kin, said they'd put ya on missing persons list. You ok"

"Yeah im fine, barely any damage" Lies, utter lies, but if she broke now there would be no fixing her, she would be of no use to Sherlock and would never look the Irish man in the face again. She needed closure and had to stay strong till she was there.

"Listen, I guess you got rid of all my stuff, I need to know if you kept anything"

"Yeah sorry about that but you know how it is"

"Its business, I get it"

"I kept a few things though, Loads of paper work, bills an shit, erm your purse and passport, some clothes, erm that's it I think, its all boxed up, do you want me to send it ya?"

"That would be great, the address is 221B Baker Street, London, NW1 6XE. Thanks Terence"

"Its good man, I'm glad you'm alive" she hung up, and was glad that she didn't have to apply for a new passport.

It would take a few days for sienna to get her stuff, and until then she could not access her account. So she set about making herself at least partially useful and booted up Sherlock's laptop, she constructed a rough CV, consisting of qualifications, work experience and skills, once done she was quite impressed. While working with the hospital she had taken on a few training courses in forensic fields. On paper she could quite possibly be capable of a managerial role in a forensic lab. But couldn't stand the thought on managing anyone or anything, she just wanted to be tucked away in some small laboratory and left to her own devices. She sent the CV to several police HR departments and Hospital recruitment offices and on a whim she applied for a senior forensic chemist position in Scotland Yard. Next she visited the BBC news website and scanned all of the coverage of the hospital break in. She found pictures of the burglars on the watchdog website and printed them off and pinned them to the wall above the fireplace, there were so many holes in the wall that she chose the placements of each picture carefully, giving enough space underneath each for additional notes.

She rifled through piles of papers on Sherlock's desk and found the file on Steven Perry, Chris Moran, Mohinder Sing and Oliver Bishop. She attached several notes from each file to the matching pictures, only one man was left unidentified, so she pinned an A4 question mark underneath the picture. From Sherlock's notes and her own memories she knew that Perry was the man that had grabbed her going on his size and accent. She discovered that Mohinder was the young man who had extracted the hard drive from the primary computer in Sienna's lab, on which had been the software for each machine, without which the robbery would have been fruitless as licences where required for purchases. Sherlock's notes stated that he had been cautioned several times for "unauthorised access" to several servers and "misuse of information" She gathered he was something of a computer whiz.

She could remember no more details about the kidnappers and wished that the CCTV footage had audio. Her collage was a pointless endeavour if she could remember no more, so she stared at the wall trying to force a memory to no avail. Frustrated she rolled her eyes and threw herself into a chair and brooded, hands knotted in her hair, thrust under her chin and finally thrown to her sides as she rested her head on the back of the chair and sighed.

"Chris Moran would have been there as a heavy lifted and Bishop had been working at the hospital as a security guard. Agencies really do need to screen their customers better" Sienna had not heard Sherlock enter, but was not startled by his sudden monologue.

"An inside job" Sienna stated.

"You don't remember him? You must have seen him or spoken to him at some point, he'd been working at the hospital for 3 months on a full time shift rota" Sienna dropped her head into her hands and spoke through her fingers:

"Where?"

"A&E and the car park"

"Not my area. I worked in the other end of the hospital. Sorry."

"Don't" She looked up

"What?"

"I said coat, we need to see if there have been any hits on your Irish man" Sienna shrugged into her coat and shuffled several paces behind Sherlock until he turned on his heel and demanded "WHAT IS THE MATTER" Sienna blinked and her blood boiled and nostrils flared and she walked straight past him and hailed a cab. Sherlock sat beside her as she barked Scotland Yard at the driver.

They sat in silence, Sienna remembered Sherlock's warning that he would upset her, which helped to calm her. Shortly before the cab stopped, She looked at Sherlock who was deep in thought with his chin firmly held between his index finger and thumb. She whispered, hoping that he wouldn't notice "I want answers" Sherlock had heard and simply looked at her momentarily before reaching for his wallet and handing the cabbie a £50 note. They marched into the lobby, Sienna stopped suddenly, and grabbed Sherlock by the arm "How did you know who was who?" Sherlock sighed and straightened himself and his coat,

"I have both information and resources that the police do not." Sienna looked around as if to caution Sherlock about their location, so that he could choose his words more carefully. But he continued "The police have so many rules, what you can say and what you can't, what you are allowed to do and what you're not. I don't have those restrictions. I don't have the paperwork or the good repor with the press to maintain, I can work! Properly, I can find the answers when the police cannot and that is why we are as far are we are." Sienna took a step back and thought,

"So you're saying that you are more capable than the police?"

"I'm saying that if you'd have run to the police instead of into me, then you would never have answers. I have ensured you justice, something that the police are never in a position to guarantee, with me there is no politics, only Truth." Sienna stared hard at the man, people were staring and she needed to diffuse the situation, before they were thrown out by rightly miffed police officers.

"Not exactly modest for a British guy" She smiled warmly,

"I am what I am, to deny my brilliance would be as much of a crime as to excaudate it" It was his closing statement, he swaggered past security and after a second Sienna followed, though less glib. They arrived at Lestrade's office to find Lestrade with his head in his hands. He made no attempt to move, he was fully aware of their presence.

"Rough night Detective?" Sienna immediately called hangover, Sherlock knew better.

"What does her solicitor say she wants now?"

"The car"

"Can't see why"

"Sherlock it's a ford escort mark 2, does that mean anything to you" Sherlock made no attempt to respond. Sienna looked at him, question marks in her eyes

"Ex wife" he informed her, Sienna pulled in a breath through her teeth.

"Bad times"

"Very bad times." He sat up, took a swig of cold coffee and sighed, "What do you pair want anyway?"

"We would like to know if there have been any hits on facial recognition, if it's not too much trouble" Sherlock was being deliberately polite, it was meant to sound sarcastic, but his tone was not quite right. Lestrade, looked at Sienna and sighed again, feeling honestly sorry for the vulnerable figure in front of him, he shook his head, sighed again and looked into Sienna's eyes

"im sorry, there's nothing in the system, we're no closer than we were yesterday" Sherlock gave sienna a look that had the words "I told you so" tattooed over it. She looked away and placed her hand on Lestrade's littered desk,

"Thanks for trying" She looked away and shuffled out of the door, slowly, head shacking and angled to the floor. Lestrade rubbed his forehead and stared through his computer screen. Sherlock nodded at him and left, catching up with Sienna and lightly taking her arm,

"Come on." They headed out of the station and hailed a cab. Once inside, Sherlock turned to Sienna, who was holding the tears back with all her might, she knew Sherlock was speaking to her but she found it hard to register each individual word, all she could hear clearly was her shallow breathing and blood flowing in the small blood vessels of her ears. When the cab stopped, she stared, the location was vaguely familiar, they both stepped out and entered the ally.

"After you" Sherlock gestured for Sienna to walk, it became clear to Sienna what Sherlock had been saying to her in the cab, she was to take him to the warehouse she had thought she would die in. After nearly two hours they came to an almost completely abandoned industrial estate, Sienna edged closer to large grey warehouse, the right wing of the large door was wide open, sienna stepped through it into the darkness. Sherlock stopped at the doorway and eyed up the size 5 bear foot prints. He entered and searched the left hand wall for a switch, the lights flickered for a moment then shone a dim yellow light, casting few shadows in the large empty room. Sienna edged further into the room and stopped.

"They brought me to a warehouse, just like this one, one of them shoved me over there, well not there, but Worcester there and I just watched. It was so organised, military like, they laid out all of the equipment with computers, a printer and a couple of whiteboards. It looked like a real lab stuck in the middle of a warehouse. Which I suppose it was. The main computer was there" Sienna pointed at a shipping crate "One of them, Mohinder I guess did most of the work after that, he went around the lab space, messing with wires and keyboards, it was all done after maybe a half hour and then they just left. Without a word, they just left, and locked the doors with a padlock. I tested it, I thought I could break it but then he came in, the Irish man. He told me that if I did everything he said, I wouldn't be hurt and he would let me go. Then he handed me a file, it looked just like the once I get at work.

He told me to run a DNA comparison between 3 samples and that after that I could go. But things kept going wrong, the computers kept freezing, I didn't have all of the chemicals I needed, the centrifuge wasn't spinning right. I kept telling him I needed a computer technician but he said they had only been contracted for one job and he couldn't afford to call them back, he said I'd have to make do, then the electric went out and he had no choice. So the next morning he told me to help him move everything into a van, I wanted to run the second I saw daylight, but I was too tired, too scared. I'd seen his handgun, I didn't want to take the risk of finding out if he knew how to use it. So I just did what he said, we got to London a few hours later, that's when he bought me here. We dumped all the stuff in here and he told me he wanted me to set everything up the way it was before, so I did. The following morning I was cuffed to a chair and gagged, this black guy wearing a ski mask came and fixed everything up, he left and the Irish man came back, uncuffed me, and told me he wanted results by the morning."

"How did he treat you?"

"He came twice a day, the morning and the afternoon, he brought food, took me to another area to pee. There was a sofa just there that I slept on and in the other place, the guy was kinda OCD" Sienna pointed and headed to the centre of the room where the lab would have been and looked at the lines and footprints in the dust and scuffmarks on the concrete floor. And the blood. "When I was finished, I told him that there were no familiar alleles in any of the samples, I didn't need to explain. He grabbed me, shouted, told me to do it again, said I was lying"

"He hit you" Sienna nodded and closed her eyes and surrendered to the memory, she could see it in the back of her eyelids as vividly as if she was reliving it. She could see the blood, feel her lips swell. She crouched to the floor and cocked her head to the right, eyebrows furrowed into a hard line. She remembered a tiny detail. She darted up and ran to a small doorway on the far right of the warehouse and ran her fingers over the metal doorframe, eyes searching, peering into the darkness of the room it lead into and she saw the steely blue eyes, she flinched and finally a tear fell to the dusty concrete. Sienna stepped back, bumping into Sherlock who was not amused at her keeping her new revelation to herself. He grabbed her by the arms and shook her neither lightly nor violently, as if only to shake some sense into her. "What did you see?"

"A man, he stood right there in the doorway, he was clapping and laughing"

"Did you see him, his face, what did he look like?"

"He was too far away, but he was new, kind of small, thin I mean, in a suit. God… that laugh" Sienna shuddered at the memory of the intentional and almost smug laughter of the man in the doorway.

Sherlock took Sienna by the shoulders, even he knew he would get no more out of her for the day so lead her to the nearest main road and put her in a cab, he sat close to her and she leant against him for the duration of the ride. He had a little more to go on than he had, had that morning. Once at Baker Street, Sienna crept up the stairs to a bedroom once owned by John. She didn't even bother dressing or climbing under the covers, just ley back on the double bed, sideways and closed her eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Sherlock head straight to the bay window and rested his Violin against his chin, closed his eyes and played a slow and sad piece, stopping every now and then to write down the notes on a pad on a music stand. The clock struck 2 pm and Sherlock's arm was thrown in the air theatrically, bow in hand. He quickly set the bow and violin down and pulled out his phone and dialled quickly. He spoke quickly to a "friend then wrote down an 11 digit number, hung up and dialled again, the woman on the end of the phone was most cooperative once Sherlock had given Lestrade's name and ID number. She informed Sherlock that the CCTV footage from the last week would be emailed to him as promptly as possible and that she would personally take care of any other requests made concerning the newly owned industrial estate. She informed him that it was part of a development program which hoped flatten the land and build a new business park in the next few years, of course Sherlock was already aware of this, it had been covered in the news that the business park would be home to either a new HSBC or Santander branch, the two banks where currently in a bidding war for the space. This is what had made Sherlock make his first call to a "Friend with contacts".

Sherlock browsed the net for warehouses in Worcester, of which he found many, he narrowed his search down by scaling up the dimensions of the London warehouse and narrowed even further using odd comments Sienna had made, he was left with three all fairly close to each other and not too far from St Oswalds. He printed off photographs of them and put them into small folders and left them for Sienna to find, when she woke.

Sherlock had hours to burn, Sienna was asleep and Mrs Hudson had been "out for lunch with the ladies" all day, Sherlock suspected that lunch had turned into drinks and that drinks had turned into more drinks. Sherlock decided that he would plague Samson, John's old dog. Sherlock had insisted that John take him with him when he moved out, however, Johns new wife was allergic to pet hair. And so Sherlock spent half an hour chasing the poor bull dog round the living room before it darted down the stairs and presumably through the dog flap to Mrs Hudson's flat, to which Sherlock could easily break into, but wasn't in the mood. After pacing through the kitchen and living room Sherlock retired to the bathroom and returned to the living room 15 minutes later in a bathrobe with wet hair and a black box, which he set down on the coffee table next to the sofa. H took from the box a packet of white powder and small vile ladled HCL, he meddled with an instrument or two and eventually fell back into the sofa, eyes rolled to the back of his skull, he barely had the focus to drag his legs to the other end of the sofa before his mind lurched from half an idea to the next, in the time that he was under, he twitched, breathed heavily and shivered.

Sienna also twitched and shivered although her reasons where slightly different, she was running through the streets of London, gasping for air as though earth's atmosphere had become so thick and dense that it was no longer breathable. She stumbled and fell into the snow, slid across ice and was thrown into a wall, so hard that she flinched violently. She could not get up, but slid further across the ice, in attempt to escape the laughter and the slow footsteps. They were so loud and heavy that they cracked and splintered the ice, even the cracks followed her, she whimpered through the tape across her face and struggled for air, tears streaming from her eyes. She can see the suit now, the dark suit with sharp lines, the pointed shoes and the whites of his eyes. She held up her hands, suddenly bound, the face is upon her, dull blue eyes inches away from her face…

Sienna bolted up write, sweat pouring from every inch of her body, her hair damp and knotted from the tossing and turning. She unclenched her fists and slowly relaxed her tightened muscles as reality separated itself from fiction. Slowly she began to stand and creep towards the door, and sees that the living room light is on, she hoped that if she could make it to the light she would be safe, so darts down the stairs and stumbled over a furry object which grunts in response. Sienna peels herself from the hard wood floor and apologised to the fat and wrinkly house pet, whom she had not yet had the pleasure of making an acquaintance. Still the furry lump sat at her side and licked the sweat from her arm and palm when she patted his head.

Once collected they both padded to the kitchen. While waiting for the water to boil, a series of files caught her eye, so she flipped through the contents, quickly realised what they were and stopped at a picture that looked familiar and saw images of her surroundings while she lugged heavy machinery from inside the warehouse to a large Ducati van, The images where more vivid than they had been and as she walked among the memories she made out the Kingsmill sign on the corrugated steel walls of the warehouse. It had been her prison for days and Sherlock had found it.

She contemplated his self-proclaimed brilliance while she made tea and set down a saucer of light brown liquid for the stump of a dog she had almost killed. She tiptoed to the living room and set down her tea on the floor and seized the laptop again and logged in to her personal banking page, to check her finances, after some quick mental arithmetic she calculated that her household bills had been cancelled by Terence 3 weeks after she went missing. Some bills had been taken out for the month and she made a mental note to cancel those that she no longer required.

She stared out of the window, the snow was coming down heavily again, she remembered the terrified run from the warehouse nights before, her temperature dropped as she relived the ice and grit under her feet and the slashing pain from when she fell. In only a few days she had gone from that to sitting in a stranger's home free of charge, with a delightfully friendly bull dog just about to sit on her feet. The sand coloured animal made a good pair of slippers, Sienna smiled to herself, despite the peculiarity of her current situation, she felt safe. Sienna sipped at her tea, occasionally stroked the snoozing animal curled up on her toes and delighted in guiltless internet shopping. She checked her emails, so far there were no reply's to her job inquiries but there where a hand full of confirmation emails, stating that hers had been received and that she was to await a reply within 72 hours.

"More tea doggy?" Samson looked up sleepily, grateful of the attention as she stood so did he and he followed her to the kitchen, she rewarded his attentiveness with a slice of ham from the fridge when she retrieved the milk. He gobbled it up in one and Sienna giggled at the shockwave it caused to his jowls, she set his tea down and he lapped it up glad fully. Armed with more caffeine Sienna practically skipped back into the living room, finally noticing Sherlock, spread out on the sofa. She set her tea down and adjusted his robe so he was entirely decent and placed the union flag themed Blanket over him, almost lovingly. She sat on the coffee table and stared at him.

"Who are you Sherlock?" He squirmed, "Your awake, Tea?" Sherlock did not speak, just panted slightly and rolled his eyes. She worried and placed her hand on his forehead, "Shit! Your burning up, where's your phone I need to call John!" She shifted papers about the coffee table till she found the sleek rectangle and swiped, "Shit! Sherlock its password protected, she tried 2212, nothing. She did not know the man at all and could not guess, she fussed about the table some more and happened across the engraved lead box, within where several packets of powders and crystals in varying shades of white, cream and brown, and several instruments: a syringe and differently shaped pipes. She looked at him once more and ran through a mental checklist: Unresponsive to verbal and physical stimuli, she spoke gently to him, and rubbed his arm. Dilated pupils, she checked and they were very small. Moist brow, check. She sat down once more and contemplated the new information. Eventually the patted him on the shoulder and stated "Everyone has their vices. I smoke and i… speaking of which… Later" She took him firmly by the shoulders and was able to make him focus on her, she quickly explained that it was the Kingsmill warehouse in which she was held then let go of her grip, he simply slumped back into the cushions of the sofa with a sigh.

She shook her head and gulped down her tea and took a shower. The lump was asleep on her shoes when she returned to the upstairs bedroom. She dressed quickly and found a lead for the dog, the two exited into the sparse light of the November afternoon. Sienna chatted to the dog not caring how silly she looked and bought cigarettes and scratching's she smoked as they walked and handed her new friend a crunchy and salty treat every now and then. The walk gave her a glow, she felt normal, just another young woman taking her dog for a walk in the middle of London. She didn't care that her fingers where salty and smoky nor that the wind was biting at her face making her cheeks and nose red. She just smiled and nodded at the other pedestrians and stopped so that children could pat the source of her joy on the head, she would hand her makeshift dog treats to some who would take one and leave it at the dogs feet before scurrying off, expecting it to chase them, she just chuckled and inhaled thick smoke.

Back in Baker Street, Sherlock is brought too by the banging of Mrs Hudson stumbling into her flat in kitten heels. He stretched his shoulders and blinked rapidly as the fog slowly lifted from his brain, after 30 seconds he was overwhelmed with clarity, swung his legs from the sofa to the floor, taking with them a blanket, of which he had a vague memory being placed there. He queried in his mind if he had exposed himself to his house guest and shrugged. Then grasped for the telephone, it was still before 6 he could still get a word in with Worcester counsel, to see to whom the Kingsmill warehouse belonged and make inquiries about the footage. He dressed in his pyjamas while he was on hold to save any embarrassment on his lady guest's part. After half an hour he was assured by a woman called Kaitlyn that he should receive the footage from an office building adjacent to the "old Kingsmill factory" in the next few hours, this was after he had quoted Lestrade's ID number.

By half 6 Sienna happily lounged on a park bench with Samson at her feet, lying on a damp newspaper, front paws crossed and head resting on them. The poor thing was not accustomed to the exercise but he was glad of it all the same. Sienna watched the children throw snow balls at each other and grinned as they got competitive. From the corner of her eye she saw something rather out of place, a man in a long dark coat and hat, swinging an umbrella as he walked leisurely in her direction. Strangely the dog at her feet got rather excited and barked and wagged his stumpy little tail.

"Samson my dear fellow, who is your friend? Don't tell me my cold-hearted brother has given you away? Even if to a lovely young lady such as this." Mycroft stood with a hand outstretched to the dog, who edged as close as the lead would allow. Sienna let it go, hoping that the middle aged man could catch him if he ran. He did not, simply shuffled at the man's feet excitedly. The man reached down patted his head, grasped the lead and handed it to Sienna.

"Your" Sienna tried to find the words but was taken aback by the man's features and mannerisms, so different from Sherlock's who was presumably his brother

"Mycroft Holmes, yes, Sherlock's brother, pleased to meet you miss?"

"Wittenberg, Sienna Wittenberg. Please, join us" Sienna shifted as far to the left of the bench, allowing plenty of space for the stranger to sit, without breaching her comfort zone.

"How kind" Mycroft, smiled and took his place on the far right, he was a damn site better at reading body language than his younger brother. "So you are the young lady who's been causing all the trouble?" Mycroft uttered this softly as to convey the joke, with a half-smile to aid her understanding, she looked away and wondered if Sherlock had told him everything.

"Sherlock gave you the long and short a guess?"

"No actually it was Dr John Watson, I believe the two of you have already met?" Sienna nodded in answer to his question and subconsciously touched the bandage of her right wrist with her fingertips, the rubbed small circles over the location of the wound.

"Dreadful business all this" he said this sincerely and looked down slightly, "Do let me know if there's anything I can do, I hold a small position in the government and will help glad fully."

"Thank you, I'll bare that in mind, though with your brother on the case, I'm not sure if there's room for another Holmes" She said this jokingly but was closer to the truth than she realised, this is exactly what Mycroft thought, in response he gave a half-hearted "Hum" and a nod. After a small silence Sienna asked about John.

"Well, very well, still adjusting to domestic life, I gather. Rather concerned about his curfew last we spoke." Sienna looked down at her fingers and tried to think of small talk but was interrupted.

"What do you know about last year?"

"Very little, John said something along the lined of the ultimate betrayal, but I didn't get any details."

"Yes well, it was revolved around a particularly nasty chap by the name of Moriarty."

"Sherlock mentioned the name, but it can't be the same guy, can it?"

"Oh yes, there really is only one Moriarty, my dear, and one is most definitely enough."

Mycroft went on to describe the events leading up to the jump and the events that followed shortly after. "And then he just appeared as though he had never been gone, completely safe and sound. Well as safe and sound as Sherlock can be, being the way he is. John took it the hardest, they had been so close, in a purely platonic way, you understand. But even now he is finding it difficult to adjust. He had to move on with his life, after Sherlock had turned it on its side and he did, he met a lovely woman and they were very happy. The Sherlock arrived and turned everything on its side again, it was very difficult for all of us you understand, but John, well, John needs more time."

"I guess I can empathise on both sides of the argument, if I had to hurt someone deeply to keep them safe, then I would, but I would also expect them to understand that when it came to forgiving me. Likewise if it was done to me I think it would take time to forgive, but in saying that I'd just be glad that they were alive. I don't know, hopefully I'll never be in either position… What about you, how did you feel?" Mycroft was silenced for a second, he had not anticipated that, and truly didn't know how to answer.

"I couldn't say, it's all in the past now, so what does it matter" Sienna wished she could speak freely, but she sensed that the man in front of her had been effected by the past more than he wanted to admit it, even to himself.

"What do you think of him?"

"I don't know him"

"But you will stay with him, after everything you have been through, you will stay with a stranger?" Sienna thought hard for a few moments and reached for the dog, who rolled over, exposing his pink tummy, which she scratched and patted, trying to word the thoughts in her head.

"I think he is just as haunted by the past as any of you" She looked Mycroft straight in the eye, to let him know that she had seen the falter in his composure, no matter how brief. "I think if given the choice a million times he would make the same call. And if he couldn't he would jump to his death for real. I cant tell if that makes him a hero or deeply troubled. He could be a hero hell bent on solving the world of all of its riddles. Or a man unable to see that the riddles are a preoccupation, so that he doesn't have to look at the riddle inside. How's that for high school psychology?" Mycroft looks down and sighs quietly, but quickly regains his composure and goes to speak but is interrupted by Sienna,

"He could be an antihero, saving the world for selfish means, like this Moriarty character. He even tried to link him to me. He's obsessed. His reasons for wanting Moriarty dead are personal, he ripped Sherlock's life apart made him make a decision which has led to isolation. I think Sherlock is lonely. He is focusing all of his energy on finding Moriarty so that he doesn't have to deal with the fact that in his absence his best friend moved on and neither one of them will forgive the other, in a way they both gave up and left each other," Mycroft had to agree with her, she was right, but there was no way he was going to let a complete stranger to him have the last word, he had come to warn her "gently" that his brother was not to be dragged into her mess and that she was to leave, soon. However he felt compelled to tell her more as though it was important for her to be informed.

"You know of Moriarty but do you know who he is and what he has done?"

"From what you have told me, he sounds like a member of an organised crime syndicate"

"You are not far off, he WAS organised crime. Think of him as a spider, his web being his "network" Moriarty could be traced back down to almost everything, even petty theft. Moriarty was the "Boss" of crime in greater London. But even with him gone, the web continues to be manipulated by someone, I and a dedicated team are trying to find this someone, but so far we have had no luck. Someone picked up where Moriarty left off, and their doing a bloody good job at it." Sienna simply sat registering the information, when she looked up, Mr Holmes had stood and replaced the leather gloves on his white collar hands and adjusting the position of the hat on his head.

My brother is a very complicated creature Miss Wittenberg, as im sure you have already grasped. However he is a fool and can overlook a great many things when he is working. I have my reservations about you my dear, I hope for your sake that I am being overly cautious." He turned on his heel and glided the way he had arrived, slowly, and swinging his umbrella. Sienna suddenly remembered a Freudian quote then almost shouted after Mycroft,

"I hope someone, someday will be as protective of me as you are of him Mr Holmes" Mycroft hesitated for a fraction of a second and replied, quietly:

"My dear girl, you have no idea."


End file.
